


got me coming right back

by sultrygoblin



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Creampie, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty photos, F/M, Lap Sex, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - it had never been like this for either of you. finding yourself in a wonderful land between need and compulsion
Relationships: James wilson/reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	got me coming right back

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not gonna say i’m sorry. because i’m fucking not. this is for you @loserwitchbitch. because we love a trope in this house. is there an audience for this? hit me up

Your phone buzzes, it takes everything in you not to rip it from your pocket instantly. Instead, you finish making your coffee, leaning back against the counter as you continue to stew in the mandatory time you were required to wait before everyone accepted your boss wasn’t coming and it was time to find something better to do. You glance at the table, everyone huddled close makes you reconsider taking your normal seat. You focus on taking a long sip of the piping hot liquid and setting it down slowly as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

_You can’t do anything halfway can you?_

You bite down your smile, if House were here there’s no way you’d be getting away with it but every one else is far too involved in their own business to care what’s going on in your little corner of the world. Your thumbs tapped quickly, making sure to flit your eyes quickly between the screen and windowed walls just in case.

_I don’t think I’ll get away with playing dumb._ The corner of your lip instinctually lifts at how quickly, _no you will not_ , slides into the app. There’s a sudden thump close by, one you know well. _Just in case you don’t get to see me today._ Slipping the electronic quickly back into your pocket and taking another long gulp before he’d made it through the door. That shit eating grin that told you today was going to be a long day.

Except it wasn’t, not for you at least. Drawing the short straw and having to pick up your bosses clinic hours. Surely he was attempting to punish you for something but it didn’t seem much like it. You were away from truly prying eyes, able to look at your phone without raised eyebrows and all those unruly questions. The ones you wouldn’t even know how to answer if someone did ask. You still wait till you’ve made it to the main floor and almost inside the double doors before stepping off to the side to read the screen.

_Seems unlikely._ Rolling your eyes at his sureness, you’re about to respond with something snarky but you’re tossed off balance but the newly incoming message. _Those pants have to be painted on_. You remember complaining about how there seemed to be no real walls here when youd started but more and more you had begun to appreciate it. Especially when you looked up to find his dark brown gaze, corner of his lips twitching before turning his attention to grab a manilla file and towards the waiting room. _Now you just have to spend all day thinking about what they’re painted over._

House wasn’t entirely wrong about the clinic being a parade of idiots. But it had it’s perks. About two hours in there was a lull. It wouldn’t last long, just a scant few minutes. But a few minutes is all you needed. Locking the exam room door, you leaned against the wood and take a deep breath. It’s another step, one you’ve been thinking about since you’d stuffed your panties into the pocket of his slacks before heading out of his apartment when he hopped in the shower. Which left you commando, something you hoped he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind because you didn’t have any messages telling you otherwise. 

That would solve this issue.

Making sure the blinds are completely closed and checking the door for the third time you set about on your plan. Tugging the lab coat off, next came your sweater, sans tank top as James destroyed it the night before and you didn’t think you could get away with on of his t-shirts underneath without someone noticing the fabric or the smell. Tailored pants and a lacey red bra, matching the fabric that might still be in his pocket. You flicked your eyes to the clock, you probably had a minute or two before some nurse knocked on the door. Angling the phone you took a few quick shots, putting yourself back together lightning fast and flicking the lock before collapsing on the rolling stool. When you were sure no one was going to come barging in you flipped through the shots.

You’d have liked better lighting and more time but it wasn’t about getting it just right. It was about the act, something James had been teaching you since this flurry of an affair had begun just weeks ago. How did it feel like this had just started while having gone on forever. You pick one and delete the rest, keeping the idea of a professional shoot tucked in the back of your mind when the picture appeared in the messages tab just under your previous text to him. No words were necessary, so you sent it off. Just in time it seems because the door floor open and in popped House’s head.

“Man, I thought you were dumb enough to have someone in here,” he sighed, shaking his head, “You’re learning. I don’t like it.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around what you don’t like,” standing up and taking a step towards him, “Something I can help you with?”

“Wilson around here?” your phone buzzes, your fingers itch to grab it immediately.

You shrug, “I saw him when I came in but not since,” another buzz, “But isn’t he always two steps ahead of you?”

“Don’t, traitorous duckling,” he points at you warningly, leaning back, “Wilson!” he shouted, leaving the door open as he stepped back into the hall, “I’ve got STD results for a James Wilson!”

Normally you’d have rolled your eyes and shook your head. Now your fingers are getting tangled up in the fabric of your coat trying to ring the screen into view as quickly as possible. _My office._ You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, breath hitching at the single word that followed. _Now._ Stepping out of the room a little faster than you had meant, you dropped the last folder for the next little bit with the nurse, politely telling her you’d be taking lunch.

You move as quickly as you can without being suspicious. There’s only one place this is really leading, you know it’s a bad idea, but you can’t help it. Something about him made you insatiable. It goes beyond physical attraction, though you can’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of looking at him, far past sexual attraction into a land you had never expected to yourself to ever been in. You crave him. It’s why you’re here, walking down the hallway, terrified of what may happen all the while heat bloomed between your thighs. Instinctually, you go to knock, but there’s no way there’s anyone else on the other side of the door. Taking a ground breath your fingers wrapped around the knob, turned and pushed. 

He hops to his feet when you step in, watching intently as you closed the door and flipped the lock. You didn’t need to tell him that House was looking for him, he was perpetually looking for his partner in crime, but the last thing you needed when he inevitably came searching his office was or him to catch you in the middle of whatever beautiful torture James had in mind. He crooks his finger, motioning you towards him. Your skin is already warm and you manage to drag your feet towards him. He grins that delectable smile at you, a far cry from the boyish one every one else knew. He stops you when you’re just close enough to touch him. It’s all you want to do but you keep your hands by your sides.

He lifts his brows, “You and I both know you’re not shy,” his eyes darting to the phone on his desk and the photo you’re sure he’s saved to it, “Off.”

No one’s had the kind of power he has over you. If any other man had demanded you come to his office and take your clothes off you’d have laughed in their face but James stripped you of everything that wasn’t a product of the chemistry between you. You drag off your lab coat, dropping it to the floor and following it with your sweater, kicking them both to the side. He keeps his eyes on yours when you reach behind, flicking the hooks of your bra and easing the straps down your arms. It doesn’t fall to the floor, it flutters in his grip and pulls open one of the drawers, shoving it inside before returning his attention to you.

“It is entirely unfair how beautiful you are,” he sighed, finger tips finally brushing your skin and sending a thousand volts through your body. His smile became cheeky when his fingers flicked the clasp of your trousers open and pushed the short zipper down, “If you wouldn’t mind reminding me?” the question hangs heavy in the air, his fingers fiddling with the fabric around your hips. 

It’s a the barest lift and fall of your chin but it screams in his face. He rolls the fabric down your legs, till you can step out of them and he throws them at the top of the pile. His fingers brush the inside of your legs as he rises to his full height again, tip of his tongue darting to wet his lips as he took in you in. Naked except for a pair of heels, he promises himself that he’ll ask for his own personal shoot later on tonight, but right now he has plans. There’s a small window and he’s not about to let the moments slip through his fingers because he’d gotten greedy.

You’re reminded of where you are when he turns you, pressing your hips to the desk until you just barely slid onto the surface He kept you poised on the edge, spreading your thighs gently with each hand as he lowered himself back into the chair. He looks up at you, dark eyes twinkling and that boyish grin becoming the smirk you’ve come to know so well. The smirk that says whatever is about to happen next will strike all doubt from your mind. 

And just like you expect, it suddenly doesn’t matter where you are anymore.

He licks a long strip along your damp lips, making your entire body shudder, “They should make candy that tastes like you,” he groans, parting your folds and sweeping his tongue across your straining bud. 

Your shoes press into the leather on either side of his thighs, bent knees shaking when he focused his swirling tongue on where you need it most. You barely catch yourself, hand over your mouth as a low moan that had already begun to escape suddenly disappears. He snickers, lifting his eyes to yours, which couldn’t mean anything good before devouring you as only a starved man could. Lavishing the nub until you were panting and moaning behind your hand, clenching around nothing as you closed in on the finish line. The whimper can’t be helped when he pulls away, neither can your fingers dropping to dig into his hair. Which seemed to be exactly his point, tongue teasing the edges of your needy hole while his thumb took over. The pressure and rolling of the digits. His tongue slipping deeper and deeper inside you. It jettisons you so close to the edge. Him, every moment that lead up to this, the straps of your shoes dug into your skin as your toes began to curl. You’re managing to keep yourself quiet, only mostly. Only just. 

Which becomes a matter of dire importance, “Wilson!” the door knob jingling.

Your attention threatens to turn and he won’t have that, leaning back to pucker his lips in a mimed shush, the index finger next to his rolling thumb replacing his tongue and running against over that spot inside that made stars explode in front of your eyes. 

“House, I’m busy,” his voice betraying nothing as he slips another finger inside you.

Your hands fly to your mouth, both of them pressing tightly knowing there’s nothing to stop what was about to happen.

“No, you’re not,” the door rattles in its frame, your body falls backwards when that pleasant heat unfurls in your stomach, “I triple checked.”

“Clearly, I’m confused on the function of a lock then,” standing slowly, smiling wickedly down at you as his motions quickened, “ _Or,_ I’m busy.”

Your back arches as your orgasm washes through you. Breath heavy through your nose as you managed to bottle up any noise that dare threaten to spill from your throat. WIthout the release it rips through you body like a wildfire. Hips lifting off the desk as he only sped up, riding you out to the finish line.

“I’m hungry!” 

You fell heavily, letting your hands drop to each side of your head, “Then, and this is a novel idea, buy your own lunch,” slipping the fingers between his lips with a grin, making quick work of your juices, “I already ate.”

You’d laugh if you could. Or if you had any breath left in you. A long bea tof silence that was far too suspicious fell over the room. Neither of you daring to move.

“Have you seen my traitorous duckling around?” the lilt of suspicion in his voice.

He helped you up slowly, “What part of I’m busy doesn’t make sense?” until you were standing on wobbling feet.

There was a dramatic groan but the receding thumping sound makes it clear he’s at least abandoned ship for the time being. You look at him, smiling boyishly and red in the cheeks, looking at you with more adoration than you believed you deserved.

“We should just tell him,” wrapping his arms around you and pulling your naked body against him.

You sigh, “I know,” sliding your arms around his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “It’s just...” you suddenly feel far more naked then you had before.

“This is real. Whether we tell him or not,” returning your affections with his own.

“So who is he?” 

Eventually you’d slip up. At least it happened while running cultures late into the night with Chase. You’d kept updating James, honestly not sure you’d even be making it out of the hospital tonight. The promise of a home-cooked meal made your mouth water and you had to protest him bringing you some, knowing there was no way to explain it to the only co-worker you considered a friend. 

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for weeks. The least you can do is tell me a bit about this guy,” you shrugged, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms nervously, a reminder that your bra was two floors away behind a locked door, “ _What_?”

“It’s complicated,” you sigh, the most truthful you can bring yourself to be in the moment, “And I’m just not ready to get into it.”

“Oh my God,” his jaw dropping slightly making your gaze widen in fear, “It’s Wilson, isn’t it?”

Your forehead crinkled, “How did you-” he pointed to the- _glass-_ wall behind you.

“He’s gonna have dinner to so I’m not even allowed to be mad at him,” you sigh, sounding far more annoyed than you really were, “This is my nightmare. This is my literal nightmare.”

The blonde smiled at you, opening the door and inviting your beau in before taking a step into hallway himself, “I’ll give you two a moment.”

“This,” he says, holding your gaze with a very pointed stare as he dropped the steamed containers and bottled soda on the counter, “This has a purpose, I swear,” you lifted your eyebrows expectantly, “He will _not_ stop staring at your ass. I get it, don’t get me wrong-”

You laughed, shaking your head with a roll of your eyes as you stepped across the room, “And it’ll drive House bonkers,” you added, he’s quick to match your furrowed brow with faux confusion.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” even going as far as to sound offended, “Did you know he can tell when you’re not wearing a bra?”

“That is his superpower,” you admitted sadly, unable to stop yourself from smiling when he grabbed the edge of your lab coat at your waist and tugged you closer, “As much as I would love to-”

“I know,” his other hand rising to hold your cheek, his thumb now tender as it brushed along the jutting bone, “I figured I’d bring you dinner, do some work, and then drive you home,” you smile, ready to protest that you’re sure you’ll be far too tired for anything fun, “Sleep over only. I promise.”

There was no way you were going to be able to say no to him, “Fine. If I’m gonna be screwed I might as well have a good night’s sleep before,” gripping the lapels of his jacket in your hands, “What am I going to do with you?” words dripping with the barest whine.

“I can think of a few things,” waggling his eye brows before dropping a soft kis to your lips, “But I think Chase would like to be allowed back in the lab.”

You kiss him again, a bit harder, a bit deeper, before taking the few step backward needed to separate you two. Your ‘ _I’ll keep you posted’_ mangles with his ‘ _keep me in the loop’,_ it makes you feel like a teenager. As does watching him walk away instead of stuttering excuses at your friend re-entering the room. You pop the plastic lid off each container, knowing you have more than a few minutes till you’ll be able to see anything under the microscope. Eventually he’ll break the silence, for one reason or another, you know it’s not going to be you. Spearing a roasted fingerling potato with the fork, you chew it thoughtfully, amazed as always by how delicious everything that man made seemed to taste.

“How does that even happen?” he finally asks, it could be better but it could be much worse.

You shrug, “Unexpectedly,” the word tumbling from your lips once you’d swallowed, “He gave me a ride home and something shifted,” digging your fork into another delicious starchy nugget but stopping short of actually eating it by the crystalline eyes that haven’t moved, “What?”

“Traitorous duckling,” he laughs shaking his head and all you can do is roll your eyes, munching on the next bite of food, “Is that what happened? We all thought you were just messing around to make a point.”

“I mean, I did make my point,” you admitted, it had started innocently enough, “But no, I wasn’t screwing around,” you set the fork gently in the tupperwear, handle laying on the side patiently, “He can’t ruin this, even if he wants to,” looking pointedly at your companion, “Especially during the lusty time. Right now it’s just sex and food,” both of your snickering quitting when the timer went off, “You going to say anything?”

“Oh hell no,” shaking his hard harshly as he snapped on his gloves and you moved to the sink, “I don’t want any part of that circus.”

Which was really all you need from him. To keep his mouth shut and if asked deny knowing anything. If there was anything you could count on Chase for, it was wanting to stay out of the way of House’s wrath. It’s why he hadn’t argued about staying to run cultures, dragging you into it with him. And it’s exactly why he would keep his mouth shut. At least until a better offer came along.

You trudged in the door closer to 4 am than the 3am. James has the tupperware, your bag, _and_ the heels that you had happily abandoned as soon as you’d stepped foot in the apartment lobby. You groan, knowing you have to be back in five hours, making your way towards the bedroom and trusting him to find his way there eventually. Which was wasn’t too far behind, just enough for you to fall back heavy on your bed with a long sigh. Chin squished against your chest when you lifted your head to catch him walking in the room.

“Stay there,” his voice a soft chuckle as he moves around, drawers opening and closing until a handful of fabric drops beside you, “This weekend we stay in bed,” undoing your pants and pulling them down again but the intent entirely innocent. It doesn’t stop his fingers from moving against the soft skin of your inner thigh briefly, “All weekend,” dragging the fabric of your sweater up just enough to yanking it off when he lifted your back, pulling the t-shirt you’d quickly stolen from him on to replace it, “We’ll even lock House out.”

“Well, that’s just impossible,” you laughed, lifting your hips slightly to allow him to move your panties into place, “I don’t even really think we got away with it today. I think he just got bored.”

“It’s completely possible,” dropping his jeans and sitting on the edge of the bed to tug off his socks, “I was a little distracted if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m just guessing in all honesty,” you chuckled, knowing that if you tried hard enough you could probably scrabble together the entire memory but you know all too well you’ll get distracted longer before that could happen, “Because of the orgasm you see.”

“I would certainly hope,” he’s quick to shoot back, helping you up the bed and under the blankets, “Your alarm is set?” double checking as he plugs your phone in and you nod with a low hum.

Turning off the lights he slips in beside you, smiling when you wrap yourself around him, already beginning to doze off. It hits him that it’s the first time you’ve slept together, _just slept_. It seems to solidify the point arriving tonight with dinner had begun to make, he had been right. This was real. Maybe it’s because you’re so different. You’re not needy or angry, knowing his past hasn’t led to paranoia or worry. It’s easy. Well, minus a handicap best friend and being doctor’s it was easy.

“Hey,” he whispers, kissing your forehead makes you hum, finger tapping his chest in some show of conciousness, “You should probably keep some stuff at my place.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s where most of my underwear is,” you joke with a wide yawn, hand traveling up his face until your finger pressed against his lips in a hush, “Sleep now, big emotional steps later,” the words slurring together when your hand returns to it’s place on his shoulder.

He grins to himself, falling sleep with one thought; _it wasn’t a no_.

You woke not to your alarm but James’ voice, whispering quietly from the hallway. You can’t make out the words, only that he seems angry about something. Shaking your head, you roll over and slam your hand on the nightstand, fingers spreading and stretching till they found the edges of your phone. 7:29 blares back at you. Too early to leave, too late to go back to sleep. You drop it with a tired whine, as if somehow that would change your predicament before rolling over and burying yourself deeper in the blankets. It had never worked before but maybe this time the power of the down comforter would prevail and stop time. You take a deep breath, forgetting that this side of the bed now so often smells likes James. Shampoo, cologne, body wash, and just him, if you were ever going to fall back asleep it would be now. Which feels like both a blessing and a curse.

“I was gone for five minutes. _Five_ ,” his voice comes from the door frame, receiving only a movement of the blankets to reveal your eyes as you shrugged, “House is pissed,” his tone joking but you groan, scooting as back to _your_ side as he stepped towards the bed.

“I _told_ him,” you say, curling around him when he’d climbed under the blankets, even if his feet were freezing and the cold fabric of his clothes made you shudder, “It’s not my fault he didn’t follow up.”

“ _You told him?”_ jerking suddenly and making you huff in discomfort, “Sorry, sorry,” leaning back so you could throw yourself half over him, cheek against the pillow above his shoulder, “You didn’t tell me you told him.”

“I assumed he would’ve said something,” you grumble, fiddling with the fabric of his sleeve, “Though Chase informed me everyone thought I was screwing with them so...”

“Is this where traitorous duckling came from?” you nodded with a hum, “He believed you _just_ enough to be suspicious but not to screw with me. Very fine line you tread there.”

“I pride myself on it,” smiling softly when he turned his head to look at you, “Did you tell him?”

“The answer to that question is both yes and no,” earning a raised brow from you before a look of acceptance once it finally made it through your sleep logged mind, “My thoughts are since he’s going to make our lives hell anyways, we should sleep in.”

“You are dastardly, James Wilson,” pressing forward to leave a soft kiss on his lips.

He hummed, “Flatterer,” pulling you tighter against him when he placed his own soft kiss on the tip of your nose, “Back to sleep.”

“Oh talk dirty to me,” you mumbled, eyes never having completely opened and beginning your happy task of dozing back off, “We should tell him.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Your next waking is to soft lips pressed against your before cooing your name. Something you are very quickly becoming far too comfortable with and have every intention of taking advantage of. Which he seems to know because as soon as you press forward he pulls back. A whine rolls from your throat, instinctual has your eyes half open and expressing as much anguish as you could before a cup of coffee. Which he seems to know because he’s leaning back and bringing a mug into your view. You huff, sitting up and crossing your legs while taking the drink carefully from him and bringing it to your lips.

“It’s almost noon,” he says once you’ve gulped down just over half and set it on your nightstand next to the phone you’re sure is full of notifications from one man and his cronies.

Sighing you grasp it and it’s just as you expected. A litany of texts, missed calls, and voicemails. So much so another call comes in when you’re holding it. You could answer. It’s in your best interest to answer. You toss it back on the nightstand instead, ignoring its buzzing and the drops of coffee it sloshes onto the surface. You scoot closer to James, much to his own amusement and hold his face before kissing him properly. 

“Much better,” you hum making to pull away as he had and finding his arm tight around your waist as he pulling a leg over his lap.

You’ve got a quip on your tongue about him waking you up for work but it dies when the tip of his tongue traces your lips before surging forward and slipping between them. Which is all the convincing you need to fall into him. Lost in the way his hands travel along your skin, sparking each and every nerve ending with the brush of his fingertips, you take the next step of a dance that changes every time. It’s just a crook of your body, bending your leg, and you’re straddling his lap.

“I’m not quite sure we have time for _that_ ,” he mumbles but it doesn’t stop him from holding a breast in his hand, brushing his thumb ever so gently across your nipple until it was hard and aching.

He’s hands move seamlessly, providing equal attention to the other, “Screw it,” you manage to groan, “Let him fire me.”

He smiles, it isn’t much farther to take your shirt off entirely and he wastes no time in doing just that, the shirt barely hitting the floor before he’s latched onto a nipple. Your hips roll forward, pressing against his half-hard morning wood with a low moan that vibrates his own lips against the sensitive bud that he’s gently rolling between his teeth. Your fingers dig into his hair, the other curl around the strong muscles of his shoulder, keeping you steady as you rolled your hips again. And again. The bunching fabric of both your underwear coupled with your arousal has you far closer than you’d ever expected to be from a sleepy dry humping session.

“You gonna cum for me?” his voice slurred as his lips drug along the valley between your breasts, “I didn’t even touch you,” the way his voice wavers between disappointment and pride forces your hips tighter against him.

You can’t help yourself, your movements pressing harder when you kissed along his jaw, “You don’t have to,” you breath, his hardness is pressed so tightly against your clit.

His hips stutter upwards and it’s the last push you need. The orgasm that rips through you is quick and violent, your face buried in his neck while your muffled moans and squeaks filled the air. Each movement is erratic, desperate and needy. James doesn’t stop you, just holds you tight while it runs it’s course. You’re almost terrified it will be like yesterday, understandably having to part but leaving you needy for him all day. Especially when his phone begins to ring from his side of the bed. He doesn’t even look, one hand holding you close and tight while the other fights with the front of his boxers, yanking himself through the slit in the front and yanking your panties to the side. You don’t roll against him this time, angling your hips and making sure he slid into on the next movement down. Something he hadn’t quite been expecting.

“You’re so wet,” he grunts as you lower yourself completely against him, feeling the girth of him twitch against every sensitive nerve inside you, “So tight every time.”

His dirty mouth is such a dichotomy of the James Wilson you’d come to know up until that first time. Something about such a sweet man telling you every filthy thought that came to your mind had to be a kink all it’s own. You’re sure it must because it makes you clamp around him and moan. His hands hold you in place the way he wants; one on your hip, the other on the back of your neck, keeping your balance for you. And there’s only one reason you can think of.

“Hold on tight, baby girl,” the pet name pushes you to the limits.

Your fingers twist in the front of his shirt, sure you’ll rip it when he starts thrusting his hips towards you. You cry out, desperate to fall forward and held in place by him. Each thrust presses against your over-sensitized clit, brushing against that place deep inside you that never fails to draw the most animal noises of you before bottoming out and leaving you with a feeling of fullness you hadn’t felt until that first night with him. The night when you realized all the toys tucked under your bed your ostensibly useless.

“One more time, baby,” he’s holding your eyes, making sure you see all the want and desire written on his face, “I want to feel you,” you can feel your body start to loosen, each muscle starts to tighten, “I _need_ to feel you cum on me, baby.”

“Oh God, James,” the first words you manage a low growl that starts from that same pit deep inside you that you can feel your release rising from, “Don’t stop, ‘m so-” you gasp and finally he lets you fall against him.

His hands explore your skin wildly, brushing against every part of you he knows drives you wild, tlips exploring the curve of your neck and shoulder when he feels you start to tighten around him. There isn’t enough air, your vision begins to blur, and then you shatter into a million beautiful pieces. You squeeze impossibly tight around him.

“You feel so good,” he pants, each pulse of his cock inside you feels like a battering ram, adding fuel to the fire exploding from your pores, “So perfect for me.”

His steady pace becomes erratic. The unpredictability of his thrusts prolonging the beautifully overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. The way he suddenly pulls you tight against him, his head pressed against your cervix as we exploded inside you pushes you over another edge you didn't know existed. You want to stay like this forever. His murmuring in your ear while your entire body shivers and shakes in ways you never knew it could. Something you know _he_ knows from simply the state of you.

He holds you tight, lips pressed against your ear, “I could stay inside you forever,” it comes with a smile because he knows it’ll make you groan, make you desperate, “But since I can’t,” he pulls back slightly so he can meet your pleasure glazed gaze, “I’m going to pull those panties back into place and you’re going to spend the rest of the day with my cum in and all over you.”

“Who even are you?” you pant, feeling yourself clamp around his softening dick wantonly.

He grins, how boyish it is seeming almost dirty in the moment, “Pretty sure I’m your boyfriend.”

You’re deciding what to order for dinner and where to order it to as you make your way into the hospital. Something that is not an easy task given how quickly you’re accosted by House. You supposed you could split up but he’d find a way to screw with you both. It just seemed easier to deal with it now and the best way you could think to do that was by getting the first word in.

“I told you,” you say quickly when his jaw begins to drop, no doubt to shout and embarrass the two of you, “Just because you didn’t want to believe me.”

“I thought you were making a point,” you gestured at him with your eyebrows as if to prove the point your co-worker had made less than 12 hours ago, “No one walks into a room and announces who thye slept with the night before. Point or not.”

“Clearly, I do,” you shot back quickly.

James shrugged with a light not from his place beside her, “She has a point.”

“Oh I’ll get to you,” blue eyes shooting daggers at his friend who simply rolls his eyes in annoyance, “He’s gonna cheat on you, you know?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, I’m pretty sure that’s a non-issue,” not that you can explain your soaked panties and spunk filled pussy to your boss, “Is this because I have power now?”

“You have no power!” he shouts, slamming his cane on the ground and drawing a few eyes, “Wilson has no power.”

“I have _some_ power,” he’s quick to jump in again.

“House!” Cuddy’s voice breaking in just when he was about to speak again, “Did you have them run cultures till 4am and want them back at 9am?” heels clacking determinedly on the floor, “Do you want a malpractice law suit?”

_Power,_ you mouthed, James’ hand slipping into yours, both of you stepped around the clear loser. Which was something you could most certainly get used to.


End file.
